The Works of Lori Carlson

Tag Archives: love

And so I do this. Strip off the layers of filth that clog my pores each and every day from the hatred, bigotry and self-righteous indignation. I take brush in hand and scrub and scrub until I bleed. Rub myself raw to give back to the Earth each cell of my being. Wrap myself in cold water, a shock back to reality. I am not the master here. I am merely Earth’s servant. As each lie I tell myself washes down the drain, I become renewed, rejuvenated and memory resurfaces. I am peace. I am love. I am.

Within a valley of frosted field, where oak did twist beneath West wind,a sea of grass did hide a prizeof fragmented Faerie Kingdoms.A child made stumble fell and spanand in a heap did land, a wreck.And one whom should have held her peacenot risen from that vaulted doordid so; she broke the pact, and would again.The child who cried and spouted tears as though in pain of anguish deepdid silence at the shimmering girl;the one who saved her soul that day.The mystic one made solace sweetand swept the child away.But o’er brow beyond clashing slopesa brother saw his sister’s saviour.He witnessed well the Faerie girlwith silvered wing and snowflake breath,but chose that day to keep his peace.N’er has a boy kept secret locked,nor stoney silence not forgot,as this poor boy…

The caverns and hallways
are empty,
voided and denied,
desolate in their vastness.

I stepped,
walked through the shards
of worlds trapped
below the floor,
and I searched
for your hands,
for that embrace
shaped like summer streets,
like ocean walkways
and backway piers.

I tested out new paths,
different roads and boulevards,
but none felt like home,
like those ten minute storms
and that late night laughter
swelling in your lungs,
bursting from lips,
the ones that devoured me
with every kiss,
every breath
gliding against my skin.

None looked with
your eyes,
your heat,
your hands.
None saw
the way you saw,
the way you’ve always
seen me.